Read Online A Conflict of Interest by Adam Mitzner - Free Book Online Page B

Elizabeth and I got married?” She shakes her head no. “It was at the rehearsal dinner. If you remember, Dad had a little more to drink than he usually did. We were talking in the corner and he said that his greatest hope was that I’d found someone I could love as much as he loved you. I said that I thought I had, and all of a sudden he seemed concerned for me. He said, ‘With your mother, Idon’t think it, I live it. Every single day I can’t believe how lucky I am to be with her.’”
    My mother’s eyes are moist. At first I thought they were tears of joy, but now I’m concerned that I’ve upset her.
    “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be pleased that he felt that way,” I say.
    “No, I’m okay. That was a very nice story.”

10
    I enter the Four Seasons lobby at nine-thirty, and see Abby sitting at the bar. A nearly empty glass of scotch rests in front of her.
    She’s changed out of her suit and is now wearing blue jeans and a black top, which stretches across her breasts. I’ve never seen her in jeans before, and even with her sitting down, I can tell that she looks good in them.
    “I was hoping you’d find me here. How’s your mom?”
    “She’s good. A little weepy at times.”
    “It must be hard for her to suddenly be all alone.”
    I chuckle. “I think so, but when I told Paul Harris that my parents had been married for thirty-five years, he joked that my father must be enjoying the solitude.”
    “Do you think that’s true?”
    She says this with a serious stare, which shames me, although I’m sure that wasn’t her intent. “No. If there’s a heaven, I’m sure my father won’t think he’s in it until she’s with him.”
    “That’s sweet,” she says, now with an inviting smile, “and also as it should be. No wonder your mom is lonely.”
    “The funny thing is that I never thought the feeling was totally mutual. I know she loved him, but he always had this gaga thing in his eyes over her. Sometimes I think she felt like she got a little bait and switched by him.”
    “How so?”
    “When they got married, she was twenty-two, and still living at home, and he was thirty-one, working on Madison Avenue, and had his own apartment in Manhattan. My mom is the type who’s impressed by that sort of thing. If you saw them together, you’d know what I was talking about. Everyone says that back then she was model beautiful; they say it now too, and even being charitable about it, myfather wasn’t much of a looker. My father used to joke that everyone thought that she married him for his money, until they found out he didn’t have any.”
    She laughs. “I guess I don’t have to ask which side of the family you favor.”
    “Should I take that as a compliment?”
    “Take it however you’d like.”
    The way she says this, unabashedly flirtatiously, makes me wonder how many drinks she’s already had. When I took my seat at the bar, I assumed she was on her first, but it now occurs to me that she could be working on her second. Given that Abby can’t be more than 115 pounds, two scotches likely puts her well above the legal limit.
    “Regardless how you meant it, it was a running joke in my family. My mom would always say that I’m all Greene—the only thing Miller about me is my name.”
    “I’m sure your dad loved hearing that.”
    I chuckle. “He actually agreed. It was kind of hard for him not to. I’m about half a foot taller than him and have most of my mother’s features and coloring.”
    “Who’s responsible for the dimples?”
    Now I know she’s flirting. “Mom again.”
    “Pete,” she calls to the bartender, a guy with a shaved head, and then she turns back to me. “I peg you as a scotch man. Am I right?”
    “Scotch would be great,” I confirm.
    “Pete, a scotch for my boss. Single malt, of course,” she says laughing.
    “Of course. And shaken, not stirred,” I add, but only for her ears, not Pete’s.
    “Here you go,” Pete says a moment later. “Another